mood swings
by caniex
Summary: winry is distraught for some reason or another... an anxious ed attempts to decipher her emotions! post-promised day edwin. enjoy!


**pairing:** post-promised day edwin

**themes:** fluff fluff an more fluff

**rating:** k+

**summary:** winry is moody for some reason and ed tries to figure it out. (i'm trying not to give something away!)

**disclaimer: i own nothing**

**tumblr: **rckbell

enjoy!~

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><p>"Ahhh," Winry Elric mutters through a yawn. "I'm<em> exhausted<em>."

She shuffles out the bathroom and into their bedroom, squeezing past Ed, who stands at the sink, brushing his teeth.

He spits out his toothpaste and pats his face with a freshly washed towel. "Well, what did you expect when you're eight months pregnant?" He chuckles as he tosses the cloth to the side.

Winry lands on the mattress with a _'plop!_', pursing her lips and studying her now very round, very prominent belly with curious eyes. Her hands rub her stomach gently, eager to see their little bundle of joy in only one short month. Yet, even though she's incredibly content and blithe with how smooth her pregnancy has gone thus far and how surprisingly attentive Edward has been to her needs, at this particular moment in time, one thing is really bothering her.

She scrunches up her face and runs her hands along her belly slowing, studying the bulge tentatively.

Ed flicks off the light in the bathroom, beginning his stride to the bed when he sees Winry's expression. His heart stops for a moment, in fear of a complication or a problem with his wife and unborn child until he realizes her look is not one of pain or ache. But even still, he's not sure exactly what it beholds.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asks, crouching in front of her, worry still lining his features.

She sighs and hugs her stomach, glancing up at her husband with a look he just cannot decipher. Agony? No. Throbbing pain? Nah, that's not it either.

_Distress_. That's the one.

He brushes the blonde flyaways from her face tenderly. "Winry, talk to me. What's wrong? Are you alright?"

She rolls her eyes. "Yes, Ed, I'm fine. I'm fine, the baby's fine, nothing hurts, we're all okay." She recites the words like they're routine. "It's just..."

"Damn it, Winry, just_ tell me_ already," he says in an exasperated tone.

She sighs once more, letting her gaze drift to her tummy before locking eyes with him again.

"Do you think I'm fat, Edward?"

He wants to laugh, to bring his palm to his forehead with an audible '_smack_!' and look at her with disbelieving eyes. To ask her _'Are you freakin' _serious_, right now_?' like he normally would. But ever since Winry became pregnant, he's learned to become much more careful about how he words things; how he handles a situation. Her hormones are much too heightened and rampant to deal with their usual mocking relationship. That's not to say they don't still tease each other; that would never,_ ever_ change. However, if Ed isn't careful, he could very well end up with a dent in the shape of a wrench in his forehead.

"No, of course not! Why on earth would I think that?"

She eyes her tummy once again and, for a minute, Ed thinks he sees tears pool in her eyes. "I'm just so _big_, Edward," she cries. "You probably don't even find me attractive anymore with how big I've gotten."

He actually cannot believe his ears. Is this some kind of_ joke_? Is she being_ serious_ right now?

He lets out a laugh, a deep rooted one straight from his belly, throwing his head back.

Winry frowns, anger flaring up inside her. How _dare_ he laugh at her at a time like this? She's pregnant and fragile and emotional and he knows that and even still he chooses to make a light of a completely serious problem! Her hand reaches to her nightstand drawer, where her trusty wrench resides. But just as her fingers close on the knob, his fingers tighten around her wrist.

"Winry, you're pregnant; not fat, not even close. Of course your stomach has gotten bigger because our freaking child is in there. It's only natural, for crying out loud, what would you expect?" He shakes his head, but a smile slips through. He places his palms gently on her belly, rubbing affectionately.

"It's the freaking 'miracle of life', or whatever. I mean, yeah, your stomach's rounder and larger but that's supposed to happen. It's a sign that the baby's happy and healthy. You aren't fat, Winry. You're carrying our child. You'd be an idiot to think any differently."

She contemplates his words for a minute before her expression melts considerably, morphing into a warm smile and soft eyes. His words ring true and right and surprisingly well-said, in his own way.

"Ahhh, you're right. I guess," she admits.

A smug look plasters his face. "Yeah, I know I am. I'm always right."

She rolls her eyes, smiling to herself despite the fact she knows it's only making his head grow larger.

He pats her belly lightly, admiring it in awe, before rising and stretching once again.

"Oh, yeah," he mutters. Just as Winry is about to look up at him and ask him 'what now?', his hands skirt around her jaw and his thumbs tilt her head up towards him just in time for his lips to catch hers.

His lips move seamlessly against her; kissing her with more passion and intent than usual. She doesn't voice any complain though; however, he does elicit a gasp out of her when he bites her lip. She melts into his touch; pleasure ringing throughout her body. It only intensifies when his tongue skims against the shape of her lips, parting them effortlessly. Heat and lust and want grows in between them, and if she wasn't so _goddamn tired_...

He breaks the kiss, leaving her hanging and the both of them breathing rather heavily. "If you ever, even for a moment, think that I'm not attracted to you, then you really are an idiot."


End file.
